An unfinished story….?

In class 6, which is taught by Anahit Tadevosyan, an experienced class teacher, there is a boy with the typical Armenian name Mher (anyone who has read the Armenian folk saga “David of Sassun”,  will know what I am talking about) and the Jewish surname Tolpin. His name was given to him by his Armenian mother and he inherited the surname from his Jewish father.

When Mher’s parents brought him to our school he was not yet quite six years old. Anahit was unwilling to accept such a very young child into her class, but the parents said firmly that they had already decided to send the child to school and if this school wouldn’t accept him then they would send him to another school. Anahit regarded the child attentively. He was certainly not yet ready to start school. On the other hand, she felt herself drawn to him.”I’d rather struggle with his childishness than have him suffer at another school”, she thought and beckoned him with a friendly wave of her hand. Despite occasional childish behaviour, he found his place in the class without any serious problems.

Then, after two years, Mher and his family had to move to Israel. His father had not been able to find work in Armenia, whereas he had no trouble finding a job in Israel. The whole of class three, the time of the Old Testament in the Waldorf syllabus, Mher had to spend in the country of the Old Testament itself. Later, his mother told us how unhappy he had been during this time. He would go into his room, take his recorder and play to himself. His friends and happiness had been left behind in Armenia. In Israel he had to attend a normal school as there was no Waldorf school nearby. He longed to return....

His parents saw his longing. And when a missile exploded near their house, they were forced to make a decision. The mother returned to Armenia with Mher and his younger brother, while the father had to stay in Israel.

For Mher it was as if the wind had blown back the pages of the calendar. He found his friends and lost happiness again. He did, however, speak about Israel a great deal. He brought Hebrew books to school and astonished us from time to time with the sound of another very old language, which is very unusual for Armenian ears It is clear that two very old streams meet in this young boy.

In autumn 2009, when Anahit’s class was in class 6, a new idea awakened in her. She had always enjoyed teaching the history main lessons and did so very thoroughly and in depth. She saw how immediate the experience of the different cultural periods was for the children. It was as if they felt an inner connection to these eras in time. Anahit decided to put on performance with the class. It was to be much more than a normal class play, but rather a complicated performance, intended to summon up the very atmosphere of the different epochs using living pictures, music and circus. And so in autumn the class took on this difficult task.

From the very beginning it wasn’t easy. When one merely thinks of the many authentic costumes and traditional garments that had to be made, the rare songs and pieces of music that had to be found and learnt, the number of dances and acrobatics numbers that had to practised and perfected.....In addition to the class teacher, almost all the parents, a dance teacher, a professional circus teacher and the hand work teacher were constantly involved. If all went well, Anahit hoped to put on the performance in April.

But time and fate brought unalterable incisions. All alone in Israel without his family, Mher’s father broke down. A desperate call for help set the Tolpin family immediately in motion. They were set to travel to Irael within a very short space of time.

But Mher had a central part in the play. His role was that of a soul that had wandered through the different cultural epochs since its comic birth, experiencing and learning from all the spiritual and cultural development. It was unthinkable to put on the performance without him. In this situation Anahit either had to forego putting on the performance, or drastically change and shorten the whole thing. The performance, which had been intended to take one and a half hours, was cut down to 50 minutes, some scenes had to be left out completely and in the few days remaining everyone had to work hard at long rehearsals. A date was set for the performance – the 27^th of February. On the very next day the Tolpin family was set to leave Armenia.

Mher knew that he had to leave. Of course he wanted to see his father, to help him and be with him. But he would’ve rather chosen to stay in Armenia. His mother saw his clear preference as a sign of his love for the school and his friends and also his connection to Christianity, which is to be found in Armenia, in her old churches and nature and also in a new way in the Waldorf School.

On the 27^th of February it was clear to Anahit that the play was not yet ripe for the stage. But there was nothing more she could do, other than hope that the children would do their best and that the adults would show understanding. Mher’s family had already postponed their departure by two weeks so that Mher could play his role. On the day of the performance one could feel the tension in the air. It had come to our ears that important guests were to be expected. For a “controversial” school such as ours, public performances are always a risk, particularly when they haven’t been thought through from A to Z.

The performance lasted 50 minutes, just as planned and the children played their roles seemingly effortlessly! Of course it was clear to the audience that the performance wasn’t free of mistakes, but everything that the children had managed to prepare well was really very impressive. And there was an unexpected side effect. Everything that hadn’t been practised to perfection gained an atmosphere of mystery. This unexpected atmosphere was the most important thing. Mher played his role with confidence and conviction. It was clear that it really was his role. The two week delay had been worth it.

And then the performance was over. Mrs Tolpin had to leave with Mher and his brother to complete the last  preparations for their long journey. As she bade farewell to the class tacher she said uncertainly, “Who knows, Mrs Anahit, what is going to happen. Maybe we will come back in September....”

Indeed, who know? Der Mensch denkt, Gott lenkt (Man thinks, God guides).

Ruben Djanibekian

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